


Evagation

by In_Time_of_Peril



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5733994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Time_of_Peril/pseuds/In_Time_of_Peril
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The meanderings which make up the shared life of Ace McShane and Melanie Bush. Sometimes confusing, sometimes painful, but always worth it in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Settled

**Author's Note:**

> Anachronic plot, but I WILL try to leave enough markers, or even outright dates in some sections, to allow for keeping track of things.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple childish question incidentally leads Ace and Mel into a discussion of their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 27 August, 1999. Small Hours.

"Baba?"

Ace shivered a little and turned her face toward the disturbance, eyes still closed.

"Hrmm?"

"Baba, where I come from?"

"Whassat, Ki-be?" Ace yawned.

The mattress shifted a tiny bit, and Ace felt small fingers on her face, trying to pry open her eyes.

"Where I come from?" the small voice insisted again, and Ace's vision focused through the dark on her daughter's face.

"Hmm - London, Baby. You come from London. Ish."

"But **where** , Baba?"

"Mm-me and your mum lived - ahh-hmm - in Haringey, then."

Kathleen sighed, and it was so like Mel's own infrequent frustrated utterance that Ace almost laughed. By now Mel was shifting around as well, and soon enough the lamp by the far side of the bed popped on.

"Something wrong, poppet?" Mel murmured, and Kathleen crawled rather boorishly over Ace to snuggle against her other parent.

"Where I come from, Mummy?"

"Well, you were born in London, darling..."

That little sigh slipped out again, and this time Ace did chuckle softly as she sat up and moved closer to her wife and child.

"What's all this about wanting to know where you come from, Kit-bean?"

The toddler shrugged and leant against Mel.

"Amar at school says at his house they're getting a baby soon, and it comes from his mum's tummy."

Mel nodded.

"Well, darling, babies **do** come from there. I mean, they grow in their mum's tummy until they're big enough to be born."

"But. But how they get in the tummy? How did I get in your tummy?"

"You got there 'cos we wanted you there," Ace rushed, feeling that 3am on a Friday was not the top moment for Mel to break out books and charts to explain human reproduction to their nearly-three-year-old offspring. Especially given the unconventional way Kathleen had been conceived.

Luckily, Ace's words seemed explanation enough for now. The child nodded and rubbed the sleeve of her little pajama top against her cheek thoughtfully.

"Ready to go back to sleep now, Kathy?" Mel asked, and their daughter nodded again, yawning.

They sat for a few more moments, letting Kathleen drift back off between them before Ace scooped her up and carried her to the nursery. Once the child was well tucked in, Ace made one of her usual half-nervous inspections of the house. Splinx glanced up from her little bed in the corner of the lounge, eyes glowing softly pinkish in the dark.

"Mrrr?"

"Nothin' on, old cat. Just checking."

The robotic feline stood for a moment, turned around, and flopped back into place, tail wavering in the air for a moment before settling carefully into the outlet. The soft hum of the creature's charging was enough like a regular purr to be reassuring.

Stopping in the kitchen, Ace downed a glass of water, and then another. By the time she turned to leave the room, Mel was in the doorway.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah. Just - checking up. You know."

"Oh. Only - you didn't come back for the longest time and I - I sort of..."

Mel shrugged for a moment, sighing. It was apparently endlessly frustrating for her to be so brilliant, yet to occasionally fail to find the right words for communicating. Ace didn't understand, or didn't feel as if she did, but she tried to be comforting when these moments of upset arrived.

"Hey, I'm here. I'm with you. I just had to walk around for a bit. Get some thoughts in order."

"Anything I can help with?"

"Nah. It's okay, Doughnut. C'mere, hmm?"

When they were closer together, Ace reached out and pulled Mel into a sudden embrace.

"I'd never leave you, ya know?" she whispered, and Mel smiled.

"I know that."

"Here, this is - let's go back to bed, hmm? Let's just go cuddle a bit."

"Oh. Well, if you really want to."

"Course I do. If you do."

Somehow, Mel seemed to shrink further into their embrace. Ace chose to be jovial about the moment.

"Any closer, love, and there won't be a point to clothes."

That got a laugh and they left the kitchen at last. Ace was exceedingly careful about closing each of the baby gates as they went up, and rattling them a bit so that Mel would be sufficiently reassured.

In their room, Mel slipped off her dressing gown, but then seemed uneasy.

"Did you want to..." she whispered, but then blinked quickly twice and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Somethin' wrong, love?"

"I just wondered if you - after what you said downstairs, if you might want to make love."

"Oh. Well, I mean, did you? Want to, I mean?"

"Yes. Only - well, we did it Monday night. And Wednesday, and technically last night..."

"We can do it anytime you like, Mel. You know I'm pretty much always up for it, except - you know. But then, you're usually not up for it then either, so..."

"I'm just afraid that we might do it too much, or not enough, and you'll be tired of me."

"Mel, I'm not - c'mere, please? Please?"

Ace waited until the lamp was switched off and Mel had settled in her arms to go on.

"I'm not gonna get tired of you, love. Promise. You're my - you're a lot of things. Most of all, you're important. Really important."

"I'm sorry. I've just - it's always been so hard to understand these things."

"Okay. Don't worry. You and me, we understand each other, right?"

"Mostly."

"Yeah. That's enough."

"For now, I suppose."

"Forever."


	2. In Transit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You _can_ go home again - even if things might not be so perfect once you get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late 2594, Spacefleet transport vessel 21-X-Rv, the _Fraunhofer_ , passing near the head of Pavo.

"Sure you're all right, Doughnut?"

Mel smiled and nodded, studying the information scrolling past on the small screen cupped in her left palm.

"Ace, I'm fine."

"Just wanna make sure."

"You've made sure about thirty times since we left Androvè."

"Yeah, well."

Kicking her boots together nervously, Ace tried to relax back into her seat. They were in the civilian cabin, so you would think things would be a bit more cushy. There was little difference that Ace could tell, except that there was a seat back to lean into. There would be a small cabin just forward, just behind the control deck, packed with Spacefleet enlisteds set almost shoulder-to-shoulder on little tuffet-like things, bar a couple of wide spaces that passed as aisles. There was a rear cabin as well, just above cargo, that held Spacefleet officers, as well as a few young soon-to-be officers on their way to a first posting.

"What'm I gonna do when we get back?" Ace asked.

"Hmm?"

"You, you're brilliant. You've been to uni, you've got qualifications. If you wanna go get a job, you won't have any problem. But at first, I mean - well, I mean, you probably won't wanna work straight away, what with - you know."

Ace nodded shakily toward Mel's abdomen. Nothing had visibly changed yet, but they both knew what was happening within.

"Well, you've got qualifications yourself..."

"Nothing that'll count on Earth in our own time!"

"Don't be so certain. Besides, you said the income from this last mission will be more than enough to hold us over."

"Yeah, but - I wanna work to take care of us. I wanna have a part in it. I don't have some old-fashioned idea that I've got to be the breadwinner or something, but I just - don't wanna be a deadbeat like all the bums my mum ended up with when I was a kid."

"You're not a deadbeat, Ace."

"But - I mean, what about your folks? Your parents?"

"What of them?"

"They'll think I'm leanin' on you or something. That I'm using you."

Mel smiled, shifting slightly in her seat to turn toward Ace.

"Ace, they won't think you're using me. They'll be too busy panicking over the fact that I'm with a woman."

"Panicking? Like 'Oh dear, what will the neighbours think?' panicking, or 'Sic the very large fellow from down the lane on her' panicking?"

"Oh for goodness - Mother will probably have a near-stroke and spend a week or two in bed. Dad will just - nod and try to comprehend."

For a moment Ace was silent, picking at a loose thread on her trousers. Then, suddenly, she slammed her fist against her leg.

"Belgium!"

"What?" Mel asked, face taking on an expression half concerned, half confused.

"We'll go to Belgium first! Call your folks collect from there."

"Somehow, I don't think the distance will be all that much help."

"Oh."

Ace sighed and stretched, growling softly.

"Should've just taken the TARDIS, ya know."

"Oh, Ace, you know how difficult it's been lately. Even Time Lords are having a hard time getting through the vortex now, since - everything."

"still, we could've made it. I could've taken you right to when and where we're settling down, come back to pick up the credits..."

"And what? Converted everything, forwarded it on to me, then done a runner?"

"I wouldn't - you know I wouldn't run out on you! Not now. Not ever. Not you and the - the..."

"You can say it, Ace. It's a very small word."

"Not such a small idea."

Now Mel was looking slightly worried, screen slipped into a pocket, hands twisting nervously together. She faced front in her seat again, leaning forward slightly.

"You all right?" Ace asked, trying to sound calm and wincing at the hint of fearful squeak in her voice.

"Yes, I just - I've upset you. I'm sorry."

"No, Mel, no. Love, I'm not upset, I'm just sort of - I'm really scared, all right? Scared that I'm not good enough, that I'm not **enough** any way you slice it. Scared that I'm gonna hurt you or the baby or - or I'll lose you."

Ace was glad they were the only passengers in the civ cabin, because her tears were probably going to fall. She unfastened her restraints, wobbling a bit in the low-grav, then forced herself down to her knees, taking Mel's smaller, shaking hands into her own. She kissed the thin, trembling fingers, rested her suddenly burning face against the coolness of Mel's palms. There was a sweet smell here, the scent of the soap from that long shower they'd enjoyed together before departing Androvè. The memory made her smile again, but there was an edge of anger as well. She just wanted moments like that for them, forever. There should never be any more bad moments in their lives now that everything was going to be settled.

"You're enough, Ace," Mel whispered.  
"More than enough. You'd never do anything to hurt us, and you won't lose us."

Ace grumbled softly, burrowing her face against Mel's lap.

"Prove it."

"That'll take some time, I'm afraid. You may just sort of have to tough it out."

Now Ace shifted, sat back awkwardly on her heels, and smiled up at Mel.

"If I get us out of here, can I at least get some reassurance?"

"Depends what sort you need," Mel said, but her grin was starting to match Ace's own.

Reaching into her pocket, Ace fumbled for a moment, then found the key fob.

"They might worry if they start looking and we're not here," she said, but her eyes were aglow.

"Might as well live dangerously," Mel shrugged.

The pad of Ace's thumb slipped into the small depression on the face of the fob, and a moment later there was a strange sense of displacement in the cabin, accompanied by a grinding groan of noise as a large dresser trunk appeared at one end of the aisle. Ace stood slowly, offering Mel her hand.

"Cut and run?" she asked.

Mel was slow to unbuckle her restraints, but at last she took Ace's hand and stood.

"Where will we go?"

"Where we're headed."

"And then?"

"Home, of course."


	3. Symmetry in Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The warmth we've lost, and the coldness ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 29 October, 1999. Afternoon/evening.

When she got home, the house was dark. As she entered, it was very quiet as well, and for a moment Mel felt a curl of panic in her gut, turning to a pinch between her shoulders, arms pulling awkwardly back and up so that she nearly dropped the groceries, and a looseness in her legs.

If she tried to run, needed to run, she would fall.

But then, moving cautiously past the lounge, she saw that things must be all right. The furniture was all in place, everything as it should be, though one area between the sofa, the old club chair, and the battered little writing desk seemed to have been turned into a blanket fort.

Into the kitchen, then, and Mel began to put things away. Splinx was curled up on the small, empty surface just beside the refrigerator, tail neatly plugged into the wall. When Mel reached over and scritched behind the feline's ears, she was rewarded with a purr, a real one, not just the usual sound resulting from a charge-up.

"Were they good today, Splinx?" Mel asked, and the creature managed a silly, throaty little sound, standing as her tail neatly disengaged from the wall socket. She leapt to the floor, stretching as any cat might, then wound between Mel's ankles for a moment before wandering off.

Preparations for dinner were well underway when Mel heard movement in the rest of the house. There was the rattle of a baby gate, the creak of the stairs, another rattle, and then Ace was clomping along the upstairs hall. The sounds were clearly her attempt at being quiet, but they were an attempt only. While she was very good at stealth when necessary, she sometimes seemed to have lost the knack when at home.

Still, a little while later, she did manage to enter the kitchen so quietly that Mel let out a little squeak of surprise.

"Hey, love," Ace mumbled, squinting as she switched on the monitor receiver mounted by the door, "when did you get back?"

"Almost an hour ago. I saw your fort."

Ace chuckled.

"Yeah. Me 'n' Kathy were playin' pirates, and then we took a little nap."

"Where's our daughter now?"

"Still dozy. I took her up to the nursery. And before you ask, yes, I triple checked all the gates."

Mel frowned a little.

"Am I so beastly about wanting her to be safe?"

"Beast- no, love. No. It's natural you'd be worried, that you'd want to be careful. I was only sort of trying to tease. I'm sorry. Honestly."

Now Ace was behind her, and when Mel shifted a little back, giving permission, strong arms closed carefully around a slender waist. It was nice to be home, and to be embraced so easily and well by someone who meant so much.

"I never want to hurt you," Ace murmured, lips soft against Mel's nape.

"And you never have."

With a little sigh, Ace rested her chin on Mel's shoulder.

"You're a terrible liar, Melanie."

"I'm not lying. You've upset me, worried me, sometimes maybe even frightened me a little. But you've never really hurt me."

"What about that time on Rajid?"

"Which one?" Mel asked, and giggled when Ace grunted softly.

"Well," Ace moved on, "then what about how - you know - when you had Kathy?"

"What about it?"

"You were hurtin' then. I know you were. And that was partly my fault."

"Only in the most basic sense of you being her second biological parent. But remember, we both wanted to do what we did."

"Yeah, but - but you were in **pain**."

"That's common enough in childbirth. Besides, as I recall, you were in a good bit of pain that day as well."

Now Ace stepped away, crossing her arms. A smug expression crossed her face.

"Just proves you were in horrible pain that day, worse than me. If you hadn't been, you wouldn't've broken my hand like that."

Setting the dinner preparations aside, Mel turned and looked her wife up and down.

"I seem to recall that your wrist got dislocated as well."

"Yeah, and - wait. Wait, are we arguing about who was in more pain or about who could wreck who in a fight?"

Mel shrugged.

"Either or. Now, as you've both hands working at the moment, would you mind terribly helping me with dinner?"

Now things were easier, quieter. There was just the work of getting the meal ready, occasional conversation passing between them. Mel listened closely for any sound over the baby monitor, tense with awareness.

"Sorry I let her nap so late," Ace said.

"Not entirely your fault, I'm sure. She's been fighting nap time lately, after all."

That seemed to be the cue; there was a flurry of small shuffling noises over the monitor, and then they heard Kathy calling, her small voice coming both through the speaker and drifting down from the hallway.

"Baba? Baba, I'm wake!"

"I'll go," Mel said, and Ace grinned.

"Go on, then. I've got a handle on things here."

Washing her hands quickly, Mel felt suddenly giddy. It wasn't as if she never saw her child. Still, there was something about being able to surprise her when she didn't expect you. Something in the way she would smile and fling her arms around your neck.

"Mummy!"

"Hello, poppet. Did you have a nice day with Baba?"

"Yes. We played pirates, and we went walking, and we saw puppies!"

"Did you? Well, that's wonderful. Come along now; we'll go and help Baba finish making dinner, hmm?"

They made it down the stairs quickly enough, in spite of Mel's niggling sense of terror when she had to let Kathy anywhere near those steps, even in her own arms. Ace was waiting for them, ready as ever to hug them both at once and stroke Mel's back firmly.

"We're gonna have a good supper tonight, Kit-bean," Ace said, but any further conversation was halted by a slow, oddly wobbly knock at the door.

"Here, I'll see who that is," Mel sighed, passing Kathy off and going to see who would be bothering them at dinnertime.

She would remember later, forever, that the doorknob seemed unusually cold, and that it did not seem to want, at first, to turn. Or rather, she found that something in her mind made her less-than-willing to turn it. Still, the chain was on (ancient as it was, and Ace kept saying they needed a new one, not something Mel's dad had installed back in the 1970s after Mel's mum saw some television programme about "the punkers") and anything too horrific would probably have blasted its way in already, so Mel turned the knob.

"Well hello, Melanie."

The voice was cheerful, chipper, the face it emanated from spread in a wide grin, but Mel shuddered.

"Oh, Doctor!" she said, and was aware that she sounded not pleased, not excited or happy, but hollow and sad and perhaps a little frightened.

He had got old. So much older than she had ever thought any of him could get (even after she'd seen the pictures, the images stored in the TARDIS memory banks, she had never thought that **her** Doctor, either of him, would end up looking so old).

Ace was behind her now, Kathy in arms, asking who was there, and all Mel could do was take the chain off and let the door swing wide as she stepped back.

"Doctor?" Ace asked, softly, and the figure on the doorstep smiled again.

"Well, what's the matter? Can't an old friend stop by for supper?" the Time Lord asked, strolling straight past Mel and knocking the door closed behind him with the tip of his umbrella.

He was all smiles at dinner, chatting away, entertaining Kathy with little sleight-of-hand tricks and the occasional impromptu spoon solo. Still, there was a falsity about his cheer, and his laughter was strange. Off. Something about it, about the strange hopelessness of it, made Mel think of the Doctor at his trial. He had been brittle then, too, putting up his false bravado in the face of terrifying odds.

But then, he had been in a bigger, stronger-seeming body, with a nature that could carry that sort of act off easily. True, this him could be dazzling too, and brave, showy, dramatic - but now, with his hair going grey and his whole self seeming somehow shrunken, it was much less convincing. His hands shook as he reached for things, and sometimes, in silent moments, his head would seem to shake slightly, unconsciously.

When the meal was over, they walked him to the door. He smiled fondly at Kathy, who lay half-asleep against Mel's shoulder, then turned as if to leave.

"You could stay the night," Mel said suddenly.  
"We've got a guest room."

"I wouldn't want to be any trouble," the Doctor said.

"No trouble," Ace insisted.  
"After all, you're a friend. A good friend."

"Am I? Yes, I suppose I am. Still, I've got to be going. Work to do, hmm?"

Ace frowned, then just as instantly was smiling.

"Always somethin' for you to get into, Professor."

"Yes. Hmm. Quite. But now, I've a job to do. Very important. Top secret Time Lord business."

Mel couldn't stifle her laugh - the Doctor and his love of secrets, especially if he could share them.

"What have they got you running after this time?"

"Oh, very important, Mel. Transport of - something of great value. Perhaps."

"You a delivery boy now?" Ace chuckled, and the Doctor shrugged.

"Got to try everything once, I suppose. Oh, I almost forgot."

Fumbling around in his coat for a moment, the Doctor produced a little wrapped package, nodding to Kathy.

"Almost her birthday, isn't it?" he asked.

"On Sunday," Mel nodded as Ace took the package.

"Well, there's something from me, then. Now, I've got to be off, but I'll be back."

He shuffled out the door, staggering a little on the walk, and Mel wanted to rush after him, to help him, but she knew he'd never allow it. Ace slipped an arm around her shoulders, and they watched him go.

"Do you think he means it?" Mel asked.

"Hmm?"

"That he'll be back."

Shrugging, Ace closed the door.

"Probably means to mean it. But I - I don't think he'll be able to..."

"Oh, don't say it. Please."

They stood there, confused and silent, for what seemed an age. Finally, Mel carried Kathy upstairs while Ace went back to the kitchen. By the time Kathy had been bathed and put to bed, Mel found Ace waiting in their room. Her posture, almost military more often than not these days, was slouchy, strange, and she wouldn't meet Mel's gaze at first when they moved toward the bed.

"You're afraid," Mel whispered, and that got Ace to look up, as she knew it would.

"Not afraid," Ace husked, and as her upper lip curled slightly, Mel could see the strangely lengthened cuspids. Even if she hadn't noticed those, there was no missing the odd golden cast of Ace's eyes.

"You're afraid," Mel repeated, and Ace flopped down on their bed like a sullen beast.

The Cheetah nature never came out these days, at least not often. It took a truly extreme rage or pain or fear to lower Ace's self-control enough for her old infection to manifest. When it **did** come to the fore, Mel knew enough to not push anything. She sat on her side of the bed, pretending to straighten things on her bed table, until she felt the mattress shift and Ace's breath was warm against her neck.

"Sorry."

"It'll be all right. Can you sleep?"

Ace just churred softly. Mel shivered.

"Will you run?" she asked, but Ace simply huffed out a sharp sigh.

They would both grow old, one day. Hopefully.

Mel had imagined herself growing old before, slowing down a bit but hopefully at least able to keep her mind sharp. Aging wasn't something that bothered her beyond the worry that she might lose control of some part of her own reality. Still, she could handle the fearful things. But Ace. She had never, ever been able to imagine Ace old. At first it had been the vibrancy of the other woman, the energy, the drive. Ace had seemed like one of those people who was going to be young and fierce and alive forever. Lately, though...

Lately, Ace had creaky joints.

Lately, there were days when Ace seemed to have trouble getting up and down stairs.

Lately, Ace seemed less solid, less like someone who could weather any blow, and more like a very fragile, ordinary human.

Switching off the lamp suddenly, Mel turned to Ace, wanting to feel the strong certainty of the arms she knew so well. She wanted this moment, and every moment she could have with this person she loved so much. She wanted now, tonight, and tomorrow, and the future. It was one thing to be upset to see the Doctor looking old and frail, but it was another entirely to imagine that Ace - beautiful, strong, unstoppable Ace - might not go on for even a fraction of the time it took to be "old".

The love came then, the actions of it, and for a little while, Mel was distracted by hands, skin against skin, rough but oddly gentle love that was like their first time, that sudden rush of lust and love overwhelming the both of them on a night when they had nearly died. It was sharp and wonderful and a little bit painful, and when it was over they were exhausted. Mel found herself almost trying to hide in their embrace.

"Promise me?" she sobbed, embarrassed somehow as the tears came, and Ace just held her tight, eyes and voice back to their usual now.

"What, love? Promise what?"

"Just promise?"

"I don't - what - did I hurt you?"

"No. But please, please promise you won't. Please."

Ace muttered promises, all sorts of them, as she buried her face against Mel's hair. Something in the closeness, the sadness, the shared breath, brought a new bout of love on, and this time there were kisses and whispers and promises of a very certain kind, and then they just were. As Mel moved toward sleep, she curled herself tight against Ace, never wanting to let go.

 


	4. So Deep and Sharp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waste and want, pain and power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late 3064, Rajid/Nestos

"Can you move?"

Ace spluttered, wiped her mouth on her left palm.

"Yeah, barely."

"Come on then," Mel said, and hauled her to her feet.  
"We've got to get to the TARDIS."

"Mel, it's all the way back - wherever the hell they had us before we jumped ship."

"Well, the summons beacon..."

"Was temporarily deactivated because they were tracking us through it, remember? It won't be any good until we actually get back to the TARDIS and use the damn key."

Slumping back down onto the muddy bank, Ace sighed and stretched. A moment later, Mel joined her.

"I suppose we ought to make camp."

Ace nodded, looking around.

"Those trees up there - ought to be some dry leaves and wood under them somewhere. We can get a fire going, have a bit of shelter."

They hiked for ages back into the trees. It was autumn on Rajid, and most of the trees had lost their foliage already, severely depleting possibly dry shelter areas. Finally, near the very beginnings of the foothills, they found a bourne, and near that an evergreen thicket. While Ace was clearing a fire ring, Mel inspected the water cautiously. It seemed all right, and tasted far cleaner than the muck of the river. With boiling it might be safe enough, and they could reconstitute the contents of some of the food packets they had secreted away as they were escaping the boat.

"Ace?"

"Yeah?"

"Toss me your pocket-liners."

"What?"

"For water. The liners keep water out, so they probably keep it in pretty well, hmm?"

Eventually, they had six good, deep liners half-filled with water, and with some on-the-spot engineering, they had a sort of heater of rocks and twigs above and around the fire for them. Once that was settled, Ace started to wriggle out of her flight-suit altogether.

"What are you..." Mel began.

"Well, I mean, the inside's dry, but the outside could use a chance. I'm not exactly sleeping in a heavy, soaked flighty all night, then having to get up and stagger around it in the morning. We can zip out the insides, hang the shells from the branches near the outer edge here, and they'll be a bit better by morning."

"Ace..."

"You don't have to, if you don't like. But you could keep the liner on, anyhow. I won't see anything I ain't seen before."

"It's not you, or that. It's - suppose they find us?"

"Then we take off in the liners. They'll keep the rain off, mostly."

At last, Mel shrugged. Letting the sodden suit shells dry was a sensible idea. The liners were warm enough, and well-sealed. Slipping the shell off, she handed it over to Ace, then went closer to the fire to check the water-pouches.

Some of the food containers they'd snatched had leaked in the swim, filling with nasty water from the river, but a few were intact, so they had a quick, filling meal of some sort of blue veggies, what resembled a pork-pocket for Ace, something like mashed potatoes, and a sweet, spongy mess that tasted a bit like Banoffee. Afterward, they banked the fire and crawled back among the trees. The mat of old shed needles from the evergreens was surprisingly comfortable, especially outside of the flighty liners.

"We can take turns sleeping," Ace murmured, "in case they manage to track us."

"I'm not tired anyway. We could both stay up."

Ace shrugged.

"Please yourself."

 These past few weeks, no matter where they were or what they were doing, Ace had been acting strangely. Mel couldn't pin down the exact nature of the strangeness; she only knew that something was different. At the moment Ace was crouched at a gap in the trees, head slightly bowed, shoulders drawn up.

"I - I'm sorry I got you into this," she said, surprisingly conversationally considering the situation.

"Oh, Ace, I'm here because I want to be. I offered to join you on another mission, after all."

"Yeah, but I fucked things up, like I do. And now we're both stuck out here..."

"And we'll get out later on, in the morning probably, and get back to the TARDIS. It'll be fine, Ace."

Mel eased her way over and patted Ace's shoulder gently. She felt the muscles knot up, sensed that Ace's whole body was a spring ready to uncoil at the proper disturbance.

"They tried to use you against me."

"What?" Mel asked, and now she crouched at Ace's side.

"They - the Mistovs tried to use you against me. Tried to get me to talk by threatening you."

"Well, you're strong enough to hold out in that situation, aren't you? After all, you know they wouldn't really hurt either of us before they'd got all the information they could."

"Sure. I know that consciously. It's simple as anything. But unconsciously - they - they can read minds, ya know? Almost as well as Time Lords, maybe better. They know what you're really thinking, what you don't even **know** you're thinking."

"So? I mean, with the way the information was implanted..."

"It's not the info I'm worried about, Mel. Not the locations, not the rendezvous points, not the weapons."

"Then what's got you so worked up? You can tell me, you know."

Ace sighed, eased down from her crouch to sit, one knee pulled up to her chest.

"They knew. They knew if they threatened to hurt you, to even do the least little thing, that I could snap. They could break through the pyretic conditioning and get anything they wanted if they had the key. And they knew the key."

"But like I said, you know they wouldn't've hurt me until..."

"I know, but the unconscious mind isn't always rational. And my biggest fear, deep down, so far down that it's barely unconscious anymore but I can still bury it, is losing you."

Now Mel found herself sitting suddenly, head tilted slightly, staring at Ace in the dim light.

"Ace, what - are you - do you mean..."

"I can't lose you, Mel! I can't."

Ace had her hands, her fists, up by her temples, pressing hard as if to squeeze some painful thought out of her head.

"And somehow - I don't know how, but when the information for the mission was conditioned into my brain - that was the nerve, the thought, the idea that the Time Lords tapped.  Because they thought I could control it, since I was among them for so long. But they didn't think of how I'm not one of them. They might be able to control every thought, every feeling, every emotion, at least most of 'em can, but I'm still human. And I can't stop myself from wanting to protect the woman I - the woman that I love."

The fists fell now, limp, open, and Ace looked exhausted as she rested her chin on her left knee. All Mel could think to do was to reach out and touch the nearest hand gently.

"Ace - oh, Ace..."

"Don't, okay? Don't try to make me feel better, or let me down gently, or whatever."

"Why would I let you down?"

Their eyes met, and Ace looked unusually surprised.

"Look at us, Mel. Look at the differences. You, you're clever and nice, you've got the qualifications to go to almost any time and place you want and make a life for yourself..."

"So have you."

"No. I can go anywhere after, say, the 26th century, or back to Spacefleet, or back to Gallifrey. But I can't go the one place you can."

"Where?"

"Home. Earth. Not in our time, anyway. I never finished school, never got any levels..."

"Yes, but Ace, there are ways around that, especially with the ways you've lived, the things you've seen..."

"Oh, sure, there's UNIT or some covert ops groups. But I can't - even if I could go back, Mel - I'm so tired. I'm so tired of fighting."

Unthinking, Mel threw her arms around Ace. They were both shivering, in spite of their closeness and the insulation of the liners keeping them warm.

"You could go home, Ace. You could make a way for yourself. Somewhere."

"What - I don't have anything to go home to. You, you've got parents and..."

"Your brother. You can go home for him."

"Liam?" Ace scoffed.  
"I barely know 'im."

"Well, you can get to know him."

"Besides, what if I go back to before I've met him? I'll have to wait and..."

Mel sighed, pressing her forehead against Ace's temple. She could feel an arm snake softly around her waist.

"If you won't go home for any good reason," Mel said, "then come home for me. With me."

There was a little sound, Ace's breath hitching in her throat, and she turned her head so they were face-to-face.

"Who says you're no good reason, Melanie?" she whispered.

Kissing, full-on mouth-to-mouth kissing, was something that had always confused Mel. Oh, she had done it a few times, but it had always seemed sort of awkward and damp-ish and a little uncomfortable. It was still awkward here and now, but then something happened, they shifted around and were lying together under the trees, and Ace was being very sweet, hands a little clumsy over the slick material of their garments, and Mel suddenly understood. She got the point of it. The closeness, the shared breath. It was how she had felt for a long while now with Ace, given a more concrete, performative representation.

"Sorry," Ace whispered, breaking the kiss off suddenly.

"Don't. Don't be."

Ace moved again, and something strange pressed against Mel's leg. She knew it wasn't what it felt like, though she did have to stifle a laugh as she remembered Jerry Broughton from school trying to "show her how" to play Galaxian, and how she'd shown him her Judo skills shortly thereafter.

"Am I funny?" Ace asked, and now she looked worried.

"No. Well, I mean... Just there's something poking..."

"Oh!"

Ace leapt to her feet and started to unzip the liner. She let it droop around her hips, revealing the Miskov holster snapped around her waist.

"Grabbed this from the last guard," she explained, and the small pulse pistol looked dangerous enough, but Mel was rather distracted by other things.

"Ace, where we... Did we just start to..."

"Yeah. Think we did."

Mel smiled.

"Well, can we continue?"

The rest of it was awkward again, struggling out of their clothes, trying to feel each other out. Mel's eyes were sharp, but the oppressive darkness made her feel very lost and frightened, even as Ace's warmth comforted her.

A sound nearby brought them to a halt, and when similar noises followed up, Ace half-dressed and grabbed for the pistol, crouching down near the front of their thicket.

"Shit," she hissed, tapping a stud on the side of the weapon. Mel heard the tiny whine of the power loading up.

Ace stood slowly, and Mel was rising now too, mind pulling back from their momentary bliss into the near-panic of possible discovery. She slipped forward, just behind Ace, and peered out into the night as Ace raised the gun.

"Ace..."

"I got it."

"Ace, wait. I don't think..."

Reflexes heightened by a long-ago infection, trained to further speed by time in Spacefleet, were somehow no match for Mel's native hatred for the possibility of catching innocents in a crossfire. Strong, thin fingers gripped an iron forearm and squeezed.

"He's just a boy, Ace! Look, he can't be more than ten, maybe twelve, and that's certainly not a Miskov uniform he's wearing."

"Might be right," Ace breathed.

When the youngster blundered closer to their camp, Ace and Mel stepped out to face him. The weapon was still raised, but Mel noted with some relief that Ace had re-activated the safety stud.

"Help?" the boy asked.

He was probably older than they had first guessed, but not by much. His hair was dark, eyes the same, and he looked as if, beyond his current ghastly paleness, his skin might easily darken in the sun. His clothes were mud-stained, but the brightness of the tunic he wore made it clear he was no willing or registered combatant in this war. There was blood on his forehead, one of his hands looked slightly mangled, and his legs wobbled beneath him as he took a few steps closer, then fell.

Mel was at his side in an instant, trying to recall every bit of the first aid she had learned in Girl Guides and hoping that most of it still applied in cases of interstellar combat injuries. The blood gouting down the boy's hand seemed to originate mostly from a nasty, recent gash on his arm; Mel tugged at his twine belt, wanting it for a temporary tourniquet, but her patient began to struggle. Ace pinned his shoulders.

"Kid, hold still. Hold still, okay? We're gonna help you out."

"Please help," the boy muttered.  
"Doctor. I need the Doctor."

"Well, you've got us for now, so just hang on."

They managed to clean him up, and there was half of a small medkit among their stolen supplies which served well as far as bandaging his wounds. Mel was worried about a head injury, but they could find no evidence of one, and Ace concluded the blood on his head came from someone or something else.

"Just great," she huffed, dragging the boy back among the trees.  
"Suppose we'll have to take him along when we go after the TARDIS..."

"Well, we can't just leave him, Ace."

There was no sleep, that night, nor anymore intimacy. There was tending to the patient, and there was some idle, purposely cool conversation. When the darkness gave way to a weak trickle of dawn, the boy snapped suddenly awake. For a moment he looked terrified, but then he stared at Ace and Mel curiously.

"Where am I?"

"Somewhere in the woods," Ace offered, stepping out to douse the remains of the fire.

"We found you last night," Mel explained, helping the boy to stand.  
"You were quite banged up, though you're looking much better already, I must say."

"I heal quickly. I've got to get back..."

"Back to where?"

The boy shrugged.

"We were at Nestrior City last. The Doctor and I, and the others."

"Doctor who?" Mel asked, absently checking the gash in the boy's arm. Another shrug.

Ace stepped back into the thicket and stared.

"Nestrior City's not even on this planet. It **was** , but they moved it wholesale thirty years ago after the colony scheme fell through."

"Oh dear," the boy groaned, sitting on the ground suddenly.

"It'll be all right... What's your name?" Mel asked.

"Adric."

"It'll be all right, Adric. We'll get you somewhere that your friends can find you."

The trek back along the river, keeping to the trees, was a good day-and-a-half, but finally they were at Panshad, and Ilkiel was waiting at the gates, as promised.

"My friends, I thought you would never..."

"Talk's cheap," Ace growled.  
"Where's our transport?"

"Of course, it is still back in my own home. There was a fellow who saw it from my shop, and he was most interested indeed, but I told him, him and his - well, she said she was not his wife, but I can tell..."

"Just take us to the TARDIS, please?" Mel begged.

Adric brightened at the mention of a TARDIS, and he was babbling all the way through the town about how his friend, the Doctor, had a TARDIS, and how they traveled in it, himself and the Doctor, with Nyssa and Tegan now. Mel and Ace shared a look once they realised just how close their connection to the boy probably ran.

"Oh, this is very nice!" Adric said when he saw their TARDIS, disguised for he moment as an old Panshan wardrobe.  
"Can it change? The Doctor's can't change, but he keeps saying he'll fix it. We tried once, but that went horribly wrong..."

"Why am I not surprised?" Ace snorted, ushering Mel and Adric into the ship.

"Adric, can you remember **when** you were in Nestrior City?" Mel asked. The boy frowned.

"Just yesterday."

"Yes, but what year was it? Do you know?"

"3060 something, the Doctor said. Though he does get it wrong sometimes. Oh, Tegan was angry it wasn't Heathrow. But then, she's angry about that a lot."

Ace smirked and fiddled with the controls.

"Chances are he got caught up by slavers, and that if we take him straight back to the city, he can find his friends."

"Are you certain?"

"Mel, have I ever been not certain about anything?"

Before Mel could even start to list all of the times in her experience that Ace had expressed uncertainty, she felt a rough finger against her lips.

"Pretend I didn't ask," Ace said, and flipped a switch.

The Rajid-to-Nestos hop was short in terms of spaceflight, and shorter still with a TARDIS. They had barely dematerialised when there was the familiar groaning thud of landing.

"Are we there already?" Adric asked, turning from studying Mel's star charts on the control room wall.

"Just a short hop for us," Ace said, and her grin seemed a reflection of Adric's.

"The Doctor's short hops always seem to take forever. That or we end up nowhere near where we meant to be."

Even Mel had to role her eyes at that, remembering the familiar sensation of randomnoscity that could come from traveling with the Doctor.

"This is where we were!"

Adric had stepped out into the marketplace, and now he looked overjoyed, hopping from one foot to another for a moment, then dashing off toward a stand at the corner.

"Hadn't we better follow him?" Mel asked.  
"Sort of keep him out of trouble?"

Ace shrugged.

"I'm willing to bet..."

"Adric! Where have you been?"

Sure enough, their new friend was now in conversation with a young man dressed, rather incongruously, in cricket whites. Mel sensed that the young man might look at them soon, and perhaps, in the interests of time, it might be best to avoid being seen.

"Think we should..." she began.

"Yeah," Ace said, slipping an arm around Mel's shoulders.  
"Let's be on our way."


End file.
